Among the Missing (20 page)

I'm in my van, he thought.

Then he remembered driving over to the Sweet Meadow roadhead after leaving Walter's house.

Opening his eyes, he saw his reflection in the mirror overhead. He couldn't see much. The interior of the van was dark except for a mist of moonlight coming in through one of the windows. His image in the mirror appeared to be a dim, pale smudge against his blue satin sheet.

Someone knocked on the door again.

"What do you want?" Merton called.

A clear, youthful voice answered, "I'm looking for Mister In-Between."

"Yeah, okay, hang on a second."

Merton rolled to the edge of his water bed. Sitting up, he reached down to the floor and found his jeans where he'd dropped them. He put them on, then got up and walked in a crouch to the side window. He opened it, and a cool night breeze eased in, chilling the sweat on his body. It felt great. He took a deep breath, then stepped to the rear of the van. He opened one of the doors.

In the darkness, he could see that his visitor was a young man, tall and slim with straight dark hair hanging to his shoulders. Less than twenty feet back, an old convertible waited in a patch of moonlight. "You alone?"

"Yeah. It's just me."

"Do you want to come in?"

"Are you Mister In-Between?"

"That's right."

"Well, I'd like to buy some stuff from you."

"Some stuff, huh?" Merton sank down slowly to his knees. "We'll see about that," he said. "Maybe I don't know what you're talking about. What's your name?"

"Steve."

"Pleased to meet you, Steve. Let me ask you something. Are you aware of the house rules?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"Well, rule number one is that you can't come in with your clothes on. Is that your car?"

"Yeah."

"You can leave them in your car if you want. You can't bring anything in here except yourself. I gotta know you're not wired."

"Okay."

Merton watched his visitor walk back to the convertible.

Standing beside the car, Steve removed his T-shirt and tossed it onto the driver's seat. Then he took off his shoes and socks and dropped them over the side of the door. He turned away before pulling down his jeans. He stepped out of them, then draped them over the door and turned toward Merton.

He was slender and pale in the moonlight. His bikini style underwear was so white that it almost seemed to glow.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Not quite, my friend. How do I know you don't have a bug in your shorts?"

"Do I have to take them off?"

"It's the only way you're getting in here. I don't do business with people who might be wired for sound."

"I'm not . . . It's just . . . embarrassing, you know?"

"I'm sure you knew what to expect."

"Well, yeah, I guess so, but . . ."

"And you came anyway, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then . . ."

"Okay." Steve turned away.

"Oh, stop being coy."

He looked over his shoulder, then turned to face Merton.

"That's much better," Merton said.

Thumbs hooked under his elastic waistband, Steve bent over and drew his shorts down. He stepped out of them. Holding them in his right hand, he covered his groin with his left as he stood up straight. He dropped the shorts into the driver's seat of his car, then walked toward Merton.

A few strides from the rear of the van, he stepped into a bright patch of moonlight.

"Stop right there," Merton said.

Steve stopped.

"Now, raise your arms. Reach for the sky, as they say."

Steve raised only his right arm. His left arm stayed down, hand cupping his genitals.

"Both," Merton said.

Steve brought down his right arm and lifted his left.

"Both at the same time," Merton said.

"Do I have to?"

"No, you certainly don't have to. You're free to go back to your car and get dressed and drive away. But if you want to buy something, you'd better do what I say."

"Okay, okay." Steve raised his other arm.

"Very good," Merton said, gazing at him. "That wasn't so tough, was it?"

"I guess not," Steve said, his voice trembling.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Nothing at all."

"Thanks."

For a while, Merton simply stared at him in silence, relishing the view. His own mouth was dry, his heart beating quickly. Sweat slid down his face and neck and bare torso, tickling him as it dribbled. He was already hard, but still growing, rising and pressing against his jeans.

Finally, he said, "Now turn around very slowly."

Keeping his arms high, Steve turned around until he again faced Merton.

"I don't see any wires," Merton told him.

"There aren't any."

Merton rubbed the back of a sweaty hand across his mouth. "Now we're sure, aren't we?"

"I guess."

"Climb in."

Merton stood up, stepped aside and watched Steve climb in. Then he shut the door, locked it and turned on a dim red light.

Steve's mouth hung open as he scanned the interior of the van. "Hey, this is pretty cool," he said. "Awesome mirror. Is that really a water bed?"

"Check it out for yourself."

In a crouch, Steve made his way toward the bed.

Merton was tempted to reach out and caress his flank as he passed. But he resisted the urge. The kid was nervous enough about all this. The wrong move might send him running.

Steve sank down onto the bed. He bounced on it a couple of times. The water inside the mattress rolled and quietly sloshed. "Awesome," he said.

"How did you find out about me?" Merton asked.

"Phil Dobson," he said.

"What did he tell you?"

"He said I could, you know, score some stuff off you."

"What kind of stuff?"

"You know. Like weed, crank, acid."

"What did you come for?"

"Just some weed, I guess."

"Fine, fine. We should be able to arrange that. Did you bring money?"

Steve's brow rumpled slightly. "Yeah. But I haven't got it on me." He let out a nervous little laugh. "I can go get it, though. It's in my car. How much?"

"That'll depend, won't it?"

"I've got twenty bucks to spend. Want me to go get it?"

"Later. Dobson sent you, did he?"

"Yes."

"Did he tell you about the arrangement I have with him and some of the other guys?"

"Sort of."

"Would you like an arrangement of that sort?"

"I . . . I don't know. Maybe."

"It'd mean a fifty percent discount on every purchase."

Steve nodded.

Merton reached out a hand and patted his knee. "There's nothing to be nervous about."

"I guess."

"You aren't afraid of me, are you?"

He shrugged slightly and shook his head. "I guess not."

"Have you talked to Dobson about what we do?"

"Not really. He . . . he didn't say much."

"He loves it. He comes around even when he doesn't want any stuff."

"Really?"

"Sure."

"Dobson?"

"Dobson." Merton glided his hand lightly up the top of Steve's thigh. Though he met no objections, he felt the leg trembling slightly. He stopped midway up, and let his hand drift back toward Steve's knee. "Did you like that?"

"I don't know."

"Phil does."

In a shaky voice, Steve said, "But Phil . . . he isn't . . . he goes out with one of the . . ."

"Oh, I know. One of the hottest babes on campus. Judy Thompson."

"You know about her?"

"Of course. Phil's told me all about her. But he prefers me for certain activities. I know that must be hard to believe. Considering Judy."

"Yeah, sure is."

"But there are some things that she doesn't do very well, and other things she refuses to do at all . . . or can't." Merton slid both his hands slowly up Steve's thighs. "I give Phil pleasures that he'll never be able to get from someone like Judy. I can give those pleasures to you, too."

"I don't know," Steve said. "I've never . . . done anything like this."

"With someone like me?"

"Yeah. Never."

Merton eased his hands higher. His thumbs slid against the moist heat of Steve's groin.

Steve flinched and caught his breath, but didn't protest.

"I bet you've thought about it," Merton said. "Haven't you?"

"Not really."

"Sure you have. You've wondered what it would be like, haven't you?"

"I mostly just . . . think about girls. You know. I'm not sure I want to do something like this."

"You want to."

"I'm not so sure."

"I am. Look what we have here. You're rising to the occasion."

"Yeah, but . . ."

"The cock never lies."

"I really don't think . . ."

"I'll make you a deal, all right?"

"What sort of deal?"

"Lie back. Feel the waves under you. Close your eyes, or watch in the mirror, whichever you prefer. But just lie still, relax, and I'll do things that'll make you feel so good. The minute I do something you don't like, just say so and I'll stop. I'll give you the discount, no matter what. How's that?"

"Uh . . . I don't know."

"Just lie back, Steve. You'll love it."

"You promise to stop if I tell you to?"

"I promise."

He'll never ask.

Not our lovely Steve.

He wants it bad. He's scared, but he wants it.

"Now, lie back. Yes, yes, that's it. Doesn't that feel good? Oh, look at you. Look at you." He slid his hands down to Steve's knees and gently spread them wide apart. Steve didn't resist at all. "God, you're gorgeous," Merton said. "And so big. Just look at yourself."

As Steve gazed up at the mirror, Merton reached down and quickly unfastened his jeans. The trapped, tight feeling went away. Letting the jeans fall down around his knees, he eased forward.

"Do you mind if I do this?" he whispered.

"Huh?"

"This."

Steve groaned.

"That doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No."

"I didn't think so. You like how it feels, don't you?"

"I . . . guess so."

"I know so. How about this?"

"Mmm."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No. Don't . . . don't stop."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Chapter Forty-two

Hospital

A hand on her shoulder woke Pac and she looked up at the calm, serious face of Rusty Hodges.

"How's it going?" he asked. He sat down beside her on the waiting-room couch.

Pac shook her head. "Ina? I don't know." She rubbed her eyes and glanced at her wristwatch. It was nearly midnight. She'd been there an hour.

"I just spoke to the doctor," Rusty said. "Ina's probably going to make it."

"When can we talk to her?"

"As soon as she wakes up."

"Is she comatose?" Pac asked.

"Nope. She regained consciousness while they were setting her jaw. She's sleeping now, and the doctor doesn't want us to bother her for a while."

"How long?"

"An hour or two. Do you want to stay?"

"I'll stay," Pac said.

"They moved her up to room four-oh-four. It's a private room. You can wait in there if you'd like. I cleared it with the doctor. I let him know there might be another attempt on her life."

"Do you think there might be?"

"It's possible. I'd say Bass is in a lot more dangerous situation than Ina, though. He can still put the guy at the scene of the murder. Ina can't do that." Rusty slipped two mug photos out of his shirt pocket. He handed them to Pac. "You can keep those. Show them to Ina and find out if this is the man who attacked her. He doesn't have any hair now."

"Who is he?"

"The name's Merton LeRoy."

Pac thought for a moment. "You mean the bus driver?"

"That's him."

"Harney told me about that guy. He drove for the high school and they found out he was seducing the boys?"

"Or raping some of them if they didn't cooperate. He finally beat one of them so badly the kid lost an eye."

"He nearly killed the kid, didn't he?"

"Yeah. Bashed him with a tire tool."

"Sounds like our man," Pac said. She studied the mug shots: a full-face view and a profile. The eyes were close together, separated by a slim bridge of nose. The mouth, a grim line, seemed to have no lips. "How did you get his name?" she asked.

Rusty grinned. "Elementary."

"Give."

"He jilted a boyfriend. The boyfriend snitched."

"Was the boyfriend in on it?"

"He aided Merton this morning, loaned him a car, even went with him to the store this afternoon for wire and things."

"For the shotgun booby trap?"

"Apparently."

"I've still got all that stuff in my car."

"It can wait till morning. The main thing, right now, is to get a positive ID on these pictures. Did Bass go back home?"

"No. I didn't think it would be safe. He's supposed to be at the Lakeview Motor Hotel. He called there from Ina's place to make sure they had a vacancy."

"Okay. I'll go over and check on him."

They both stood. Pac saw Rusty's eyes lower to her dress. "I guess your evening's been ruined."

"We managed to squeeze in our dinner. Did you get a chance to eat?"

"I had a very interesting supper," Rusty said, "At Patty's Good Food Cafe between Parkington's suicide and the flattened head."

"The what?"

"Didn't Shepherd tell you? An eighteen-wheeler found our missing head. Out on Forty."

"My God."

"Interesting that it finally popped up that way after so long. Makes me wonder what it was doing in the meantime."

"I think I'd rather not know," Pac said.

Rusty smiled. "Don't let revulsion get in the way of your investigation. That's Rule Six."

"You're terrible."

"Part of my charm, honey. Okay, I'm on my way. If you want to run home and change while you're waiting for Ina to wake up, go ahead."

"I might do that."

"Do you have a car?"

"I have ours. I dropped off Harney at home before coming over."

"If you go home, don't stay long. I think Ina'll be safe here, but you never can tell. And let me know what she has to say about the photos."